


Sweet to the soul

by statuscrows



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statuscrows/pseuds/statuscrows
Summary: Kurapika finds a lead on someone who might know the location of the Scarlet Eyes.





	Sweet to the soul

Hisoka had been smiling when he'd told him where to meet his informant. It was one of his rare calm smiles that made Kurapika uncomfortable for how inappropriate it felt on a man like him. It would've worried Kurapika more if Hisoka were the type of person who laid traps and let other people do his killing for him, but he isn't and Kurapika didn't intend to let the magician get the better of him.

"Are you planning to tell me what this man looks like or were you just going to be useless for the rest of the night?" Kurapika asks.

Hisoka's smile remains firm. "But of course," he says lightly. "He's in his mid-twenties. About 5"9 with dark hair and a cross tattooed on his forehead. Handsome too."

"Good." He's turning to leave when he hears Hisoka chuckle and stops in his tracks.

"Have fun."

Kurapika doesn't bother looking at him. He heads back to his hotel, his conjured chains digging into his palms from how tightly he squeezes his fists.

It's the first real lead he’s gotten since he arrived in Yorkshin. Even if it's a fool's errand, even if it's a trap that he's walking straight into, he doesn't care. He can't stand still anymore; especially if there's even a tiny chance that Hisoka is telling the truth and that his informant knows where the Scarlet Eyes are.

 

Hisoka neglects to mention how seedy the hotel bar that he's supposed to meet the informant in is. The lights are all turned low and the place is slightly foggy from cigar smoke. There are several very well dressed young women strategically placed near older drunk men. It takes Kurapika a moment to realize that the women are most likely escorts and he starts to wonder again if Hisoka was just messing with him. He can imagine the magician getting a good laugh out of someone as stiff as Kurapika wandering around a bar, trying in vain to catch the attention of a man who very well might not exist.

Not having planned on drawing too much attention to himself, Kurapika had chosen a relatively modest outfit for the evening. He'd decided on women's clothing because it held the dual function of completely changing who a potential enemy might look for while also making him seem like less of a threat. And from Kurapika’s experience the kind of men who sold information to those willing to pay were more likely to talk to a girl in a pretty dress then they were a random teenage boy.

Kurapika checks his watch to confirm, once again, that he is right on time before taking a seat down at the bar. His heels are comfortable enough that his feet don't hurt yet but he's tired of circling the room like a vulture. When the bartender asks if he'd like anything Kurapika declines.

“The food here is surprisingly good if you aren’t in the mood for drinking,” a man two seats away from him says.

Kurapika gives him a quick sideways glance in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar and doesn't respond. He looks about the right age. He has dark hair, and a headband covering his forehead but there are a decent number of dark haired men in the room. There doesn't seem to be anything particularly remarkable about  _this_  man beyond the fact that he seems to be sober. If the man is just trying to start up a conversation then he'll need to get rid of him as soon as possible.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

The man nods and Kurapika sees him lift the band from his forehead. There’s a cross underneath it.

“That'd be me. Chrollo." He sits down beside Kurapika and holds out a hand. Kurapika shakes it but doesn't introduce himself in turn. “You're Hisoka’s friend right?”

“No,” Kurapika says immediately. “But I'm here because of him.”

Chrollo laughs. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Kurapika looks Chrollo over again and finds quickly that he dislikes the way the man is smiling at him. Rather than being lewd or inappropriate it's uncomfortably familiar in a way that he can't help being bothered by. He's dressed very plainly in a suit that fits well but is clearly not high end material which makes a paranoid part of Kurapika wonder if he's in disguise as well. Kurapika hadn't even noticed him when he'd been circling the bar.

“How did you know it was me?” Kurapika asks. “Hisoka said he didn't tell you anything about me.”

“He didn't exactly give me a description but he told me a few things to look out for."

Kurapika narrows his eyes. Chrollo clears his throat politely. "He avoided specifics but he said you'd be 'young, cute, and oozing bloodlust'."

Kurapika makes a conscious effort to disperse his aura and project a more neutral feeling. The knowledge that Hisoka finds him cute is unsettling but there isn't much he can do about that.

“Well, that’s a little less threatening,” Chrollo says.

“I was told you might have information on items that the Phantom Troupe has stolen or sold over the past several years,” Kurapika says, hoping to steer them in the right direction.

Luckily Chrollo goes along with him. “Yes, that’s true enough. I’m familiar with most of the items they’ve sold but the Troupe themselves don’t keep written records.”

“If needed could you provide a list of these items from memory?”

“Probably not.” Chrollo shrugs. “My memory isn’t bad or anything but I don’t usually expect that I’ll need to hang onto information like that.”

Kurapika blinks, and then gets to his feet. “Then there’s nothing you can help me with.”

“Hold on, I didn’t say that,” Chrollo says with a laugh. “There’s a woman I know who has the ability to withdraw very specific memories from people—even ones that they don’t remember precisely. I’ll be meeting with her tomorrow and she should be able to tell you what you need to know. If I ask her too.”

Slowly, Kurapika sits back down in his chair. Chrollo's expression isn't smug but there's a level of self-satisfaction in it.

“Is there something in particular that you’re looking for?”

“As part of my audition for a body guard position I need to get one of several items for my boss. I believe one of them was probably in the possession of the Phantom Troupe and that if I find out who it was sold to—“

“You can get the item yourself. Makes sense.”

Kurapika nods. A thought that he’s been having since he first spoke to Hisoka comes to mind. “I didn't know the Troupe had a book keeper.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees no change whatsoever in Chrollo’s expression. He doesn’t appear stiff and seems unbothered by the conversation they’re having. “They don't,” Chrollo says. “They aren't usually very meticulous when it comes to who they sell to or for how much. It's—“

“Not about the money for them. I know." Chrollo raises an eyebrow at that. “But my question is how do _you_ know all of this?”

“Mmm, I wonder.” Chrollo takes a sip from his drink.

“Let me rephrase. Do you know the Troupe personally?”

Chrollo makes a vague noncommittal sound. “I have lots of friends."

Kurapika takes a deep breath, reminds himself that his most powerful Nen only works on Spiders, and then exhales. He decides to stop pressing. He doubt's he’ll get anything more specific out of him without using force.

“I'm interested in your offer.”

“That's good to hear.”

“Where do we start?”

“If you’re up for it we can meet tomorrow morning and I can introduce you to my friend. She’ll probably be able to help if the Troupe had what you’re looking for.” Chrollo writes a phone number down on a napkin. “Here. Call me around 8 and I can tell you the location we’ll be meeting.”

He reads the napkin over several times and then tears it up. “How much do you want?”

“In terms of money? I haven’t decided yet. Hisoka suggested that once I met you I’d want to help out of the “goodness of my heart” but I won’t pretend to know what he meant by that.”

“Sounds like he was messing with you. I wouldn’t think too deeply about it.”

“Knowing Hisoka that’s likely,” Chrollo says, not looking away from his drink. “But I suspect he knows I have a type.”

The comment comes off so innocuously that it takes a moment for Kurapika to realize what he's said. "That's good for you," he says. He keeps his voice level despite the racing of his thoughts.

Would Chrollo try to proposition him in return for information on the Phantom Troupe? He certainly couldn’t put it past the man at this point. But would he accept Chrollo's offer if it meant getting an actual lead? Kurapika wasn't sure.

Chrollo hums and takes another sip of his drink.

Kurapika forces that thought away for now. “In any case, for today at least I think I’d rather rely on money then the kindness of strangers. Decide on a price, and I’ll pay it.”

“We can figure that out in the morning." Chrollo looks up to meet his stare. "When you let me know what we're looking for.”

There something strangely calming about Chrollo's eyes. They give a softness to his face that makes him feel kind almost effortlessly. Given that he's friends with the Phantom Troupe that kindness is no doubt a lie.

“Then we're done for now.” Kurapika stands up again. He has the sudden need for some distance between himself and Chrollo, though he isn’t sure why. “I’ll meet you in the morning.”

Chrollo only smiles at his abrupt departure. "Good night."

"Good night," Kurapika says back. He can feel Chrollo's eyes follow him out of the bar and he doesn’t slow down.

 

A list of items supposedly pulled from a stranger's head is not what Hisoka promised him.

Though he's been vague and roundabout Hisoka had promised him something physical, something that he could look for and find with the right amount of digging. While it’s very likely Hisoka lied to him there’s a chance that Chrollo did as well.

In the women’s bathroom he lays the building’s floor plan out across the marble counter and summons his Chain. He holds it up as he flips through pages, going through each floor individually. Chrollo had said that the Phantom Troupe didn't keep track of the items they stole but his role as their "friend" wouldn't make much sense if that were the case. They would've probably recruited him if they liked him enough. Otherwise he can't image them keeping Chrollo around unless he served some vital purpose.

The bookkeeping theory seems the most likely based on Hisoka steering him specifically towards Chrollo. He might have a notebook or a ledger with relevant information that he can find. If Chrollo had admitted to as much earlier then it would’ve risked Kurapika just robbing and killing him. Saying the information could only be found in his head was a great way to ensure that Kurapika was at a disadvantage.

He's flipping through the page for the 6th floor when his Chain suddenly stops, pointing towards a room.

And there it was. Something psychical.

 

From the outside of Chrollo’s room there doesn't appear to be anything special going on. But as Kurapika approaches the door he starts to feel something.

He holds a hand out in front of him and uses Gyo. There's some kind of Nen radiating from the door and the feeling of it reminds him of the odd calming effect around Chrollo's aura. It's difficult to discern the Nen’s purpose without testing it out but there's a chance it’s a booby trap or some kind of complicated Nen based lock. It doesn't seem wise to try breaking into the room of a man who’s friends with the Troupe.

He’s so close. There something that he's looking for here within his reach but he can't get a hold of it this way. Not unless he can safely get himself into Chrollo's room.

Kurapika lowers his hand.

And that probably won’t be happening unless Chrollo invites him in.

 

“I’d like you to buy me a drink,” Kurapika says, sitting back down at the bar.

Chrollo looks up at him in mild surprise. He shuts the book he’s reading and tucks it away with a smile. Kurapika's making an effort to loosened his posture, and he's taken down the ponytail he'd put his wig in to let his hair lay over his shoulders. It isn’t a significant change but Chrollo seems to be picking up on the mood between them.

Chrollo buys him a glass of wine. He takes a small sip for properties sake and then ignores the glass, laying his full focus on Chrollo.

He doesn’t strike Kurapika as a particularly stupid man and the security around his room suggests that he has some level of competence with Nen. All of these facts worked against Kurapika. The only advantage he has, the only tool in his arsenal, was that he was apparently Chrollo's “type”.

For whatever reason, despite his utter lack of charm, Chrollo seems to like him. Even having Kurapika’s attention focused on him now seems to be fun for him. He's making his interest very clear.

Kurapika wonders if he even needs to try.

“Nothing better to do this evening?” Chrollo asks eventually. He appears to have been drinking steadily since Kurapika left but he’s maintaining his composer.

“I'm new in town,” Kurapika says, crossing his legs beneath the bar. “I don't exactly know my way around the city.”

Chrollo isn't subtle when watching the way the dress slides up Kurapika’s thighs, but his smile remains polite. “Big cities can be confusing if you're not used to them. I'm not in town often but I have to say, Yorkshin isn't very nice to tourists.”

“I guess it suits me then since I’m not particularly nice either." The line comes out more aloof than flirtatious but it still makes Chrollo laugh.

“I noticed," he says.

"Is that what Hisoka thinks your "type" is?"

"The mean? That might be what he thinks but it wouldn't be entirely accurate." Chrollo's gaze falls down to his dress, and Kurapika holds back the urge to flinch. Just under the bust line of his dress is a thin chain, there to do the same thing as the chains he usually keeps on his hands - convince other Nen users that he's a Manipulator. He isn't sure if Chrollo is staring at his body or if he's realized that Kurapika is armed.

He hopes for the former but expects that it's both.

 

Chrollo has been drinking steadily for most of the night but he still seems perfectly sober. Kurapika doesn’t normally drink but even he can tell that Chrollo has a very high tolerance for liquor. Either that or his drinks are nonalcoholic.

"Will you be staying in town for the auction?" Chrollo asks. Kurapika has made no attempts to break the silence for several minutes.

"Assuming I get the bodyguard position, yes. I’ll be attending."

"I see. Perhaps we'll run into each other again."

"It's a large auction."

Chrollo shrugs. "I probably won't be hard to find. My friends and I tend to draw a lot of—"

“Chrollo, do you have a room here?” Kurapika asks abruptly. He keeps his face utterly flat. Being rude and direct has served him well so far.

Without missing a beat Chrollo says, “I do.”

“Then I’d like you to take me there.”

Chrollo continues to sip his drink thoughtfully, and Kurapika has a brief moment of embarrassment where he wonders if he's going to be rejected. But when he lowers his glass Chrollo is smiling at him, and paying their tab.

“Alright,” he says. “Why not?”

 

The brief moment of panic Kurapika felt over the prospect of being rejected is quickly replaced by very real fear over the fact that Chrollo has accepted his offer and is planning to have sex with him. As they make their way over to the elevator Kurapika feels the muscles of his shoulders and his neck lock up at the thought of what he's trying to do. The sound of his heels is much too loud in the hallway, and Kurapika has no idea what he's going to do if he's not able to get Chrollo to drop his guard. He certainty can't let Chrollo undress him but he can't expect a man with intimate knowledge of the Phantom Troupe’s dealings to be easy to take down when he can't use his Judgment Chain. If only the man were drunk, he could maybe offer him oral sex and hope he passed out immediately afterwards.

The elevator doors slide open, and Chrollo ushers Kurapika in ahead of him with a light hand on his back.

“Can I have your name?” he asks as the doors close.

“Why does it matter?” Even he can tell his voice sounds nervous and defensive.

“I’d like to know what to shout later.”

“I'd rather not—“ Kurapika starts to say before the words register. His mouth slams shut, cheeks hot.

“Sorry,” Chrollo says with a small laugh. “No names it is then.” The elevator tings and Kurapika gets out first, momentarily forgetting that he’s not supposed to know where the other man’s room is. Chrollo tilts his head in the direction of the hallway on the left and Kurapika follows behind him, face still a little red.

“That’s a lovely dress,” Chrollo says.

“I’d rather you not tease me, if that’s alright.”

“I’m not teasing you this time. It’s very nice. Do you always dress as a woman when meeting new people?”

Kurapika almost stops in his tracks before he notices that the other isn’t slowing down. He follows warily a few steps behind him. He doesn't like the idea of Chrollo pretending to believe his lies.

“Hisoka referred to you with male pronouns," Chrollo explains. "Am I wrong?”

"Do you care?"

"Not particularly." They reach a room, the one that Kurapika had divined earlier, and he folds his hands behind his back to hide their faint trembling. He doesn’t have an excuse to avoid sex anymore.

"I suppose if "oozing bloodlust" didn't put you off why would my gender?” Kurapika mumbles.

“Neither of those is off putting.” He isn’t moving yet to unlock the door. Kurapika wonders if the room really is trapped in some way, or guarded by someone else he works with.

“Something wrong?” Kurapika asks, eyeing the keys in Chrollo’s hand.

“No, but I thought you should probably know that I've mislead you a bit.” Kurapika moves to cross his arms over his chest, subtly feeling the metal beneath his fingers.

“In what way?” he asks.

“About my affiliation with the Phantom Troupe.”

Kurapika’s fingers relax. “So you’ve been wasting my time. You don't actually know them.” Disappointment fills him but also a bit of relief. He's annoyed and maybe he'll be angry later but at least it means he can leave.

Chrollo shakes his head. "Actually I’m their leader.”

In one fell swoop Kurapika feels the fear leave his body, replaced with a wave of murderous intent so strong that only the tight hold he's had on his emotions all evening keeps the entire building from feeling the sudden surge of his rage. Beneath his contacts he knows his eyes are flashing red.

Chrollo isn't looking at him, he's unlocking the door, but Kurapika knows now why Hisoka recommended this man to him, and with a rush of excitement he realizes that Chrollo has unwitting put all the cards in Kurapika’s hands. He doesn't need to hold himself back in this; he can crush the Spider to his heart's content.

“I won’t keep anything from you tomorrow if you decide you’d rather not spend the night with me,” Chrollo says, voice still pleasant. “I wouldn’t be that petty.” Kurapika blinks, trying to force his planning into the back of his mind so he can actually listen to what’s being said to him. Chrollo is offering him an out.

He thinks Kurapika’s afraid.

“That’s a nice offer but no,” Kurapika says. The effort of keeping his voice steady and his body still makes him dizzy. “I already made up my mind. Who you are doesn’t change anything.”

“Alright,” Chrollo says. The door unlocks with a soft click and Kurapika follows Chrollo into his room.

“Did you want another drink?” Chrollo asks, heading towards the small bar in the back.

“No,” Kurapika says, before he realizes that it's in his best interest to have Chrollo's attention somewhere else if it’ll give him a chance to think. He needs to straighten out his expression as well. "Actually yes. I’ll take a drink.”

Kurapika glances over the room and finds that it's incredibly innocuous. It's slightly messy in a lived in way but there nothing inside to indicate that the man who’s been staying in it is anything but ordinary. Kurapika almost laughs at that. Everything from his clothing to his personality is mild, unassuming, and far more convincing than any disguise that Kurapika could ever wear.

But he knows Chrollo wasn't lying. Some instinctual part of him felt that there was much more to him from the start.

Kurapika keeps up the pretense of looking around until he's got his facial expression back to something appropriate. There's nothing he can do about how tightly wound his body is but when sleeping with a stranger that's excusable. Obvious rage and hatred wouldn't do. Not until he was ready to kill Chrollo.

 _No_ , Kurapika thinks,  _not yet_. If the Nen-user who can manipulate memory was legitimate he’d need Chrollo to get information on the eyes. Just interrogating him wouldn't be enough if his memories we flawed.

Chrollo smiles in his direction. Kurapika isn’t scared of sleeping with an enemy if it means a chance to find out where the rest of the eyes are. He just has to wait for Chrollo to drop his guard. If it meant waiting until he fell into post-coital sleep then he would make do. And then he'd get his Chain around Chrollo’s neck and use his friend to get the information he wanted out of Chrollo's head.

Chrollo hands him a glass and Kurapika doesn’t bother taking a sip from it to be polite. For the first time in the evening Chrollo is leaning slightly into his space. It’s strange how little lust he’s felt from the man despite having so much of his attention. It’s although, despite being attracted to him, he couldn’t care much one way or the other how the evening turns out.

He lets him stare into Chrollo's grey eyes again, let's himself breathe and feel the comforting heat of his own hatred still burning hot in his gut where his fear wants so desperately to be. He can see himself in Chrollo's eyes, the intense weight of his own gaze and he knows, even if this isn't something he wants, that the path he's on is still right.

He puts down the wine glass and wraps his arms around Chrollo’s neck.

The kiss surprises Kurapika in how mild it is, and how much control Chrollo lets him have over it. His hands are light on Kurapika’s waist and his lips only move to kiss him back the way he’s being kissed. The faint taste of soda in his mouth confirms his earlier suspicion that Chrollo hadn’t been drinking at all and is completely sober. Chrollo’s smiling again when Kurapika pulls away.

“Don't take this the wrong way but have you done this before?”

“Not with a man. No,” Kurapika says. Truth be told he's never kissed anyone but it's a believable sounding lying to account for his awkwardness. There's nothing sacred or worth treasuring in a kiss.

He expects a comment on this but gets nothing but a second kiss, this time more pressing and with the unexpected heat of Chrollo’s tongue. Kurapika grabs hold of his tie and yanks it, forcing the kiss to end.

The sudden pull causes Chrollo's lip to catch against his teeth and a spot of blood forms there.

"Sorry," Kurapika mutters unconvincingly. "You caught me off guard."

"It's no problem." Chrollo undoes his tie and sets it down beside the wine. He licks away the blood.

Not even five minutes in and he's already made Chrollo bleed.

“The bedroom is right behind you,” Chrollo says.

 

Chrollo makes no sense.

He's been thinking exactly that for most of the night and it's slowly becoming clear that he's absolutely right. But now it's more than just willfully ignoring Kurapika's bloodlust that's putting him on edge, it's the obvious tenderness he's putting into every touch. They've moved into Chrollo's bedroom and he's got the man leaning over him on the bed. Though Kurapika is clearly ready to get things over with there's no rush in Chrollo's movements.

He's staring dutifully at the ceiling while Chrollo kisses him; first along his jaw and then down to his neck. It's such a gentle gesture that Kurapika feels a sliver of doubt settle into the back of his mind about if he was telling the truth. There’s so little violence in him that it seems impossible for him to be a killer.

Chrollo has a hand on his waist and is absentmindedly stroking him through his dress. He only has a moment to feel weird about the amount of contact between them before Chrollo kisses him again, this time on the collar bone. Disliking how ticklish the sensation makes him he pulls Chrollo up roughly by his jacket and kisses his mouth.

When he sits up slightly Chrollo’s hand finds its way to the zipper of his dress. The intimacy of the moment is uncomfortable and Kurapika shoves him away to pull the dress off himself. The heels fall to the floor soon after and then Chrollo is tugging at his underwear.

“So you're a blonde huh?” Chrollo says. Kurapika is only confused for a moment before he remembers that he hadn't bothered shaving past his thighs. Chrollo smiles at him. “It's alright, I won't tell anyone.”

Kurapika scoffs and pulls off the brown wig, tossing it away. He takes off Chrollo’s jacket and unbuttons his shirt much more quickly than Chrollo had been undressing him but he freezes when he has the man’s shirt pulled halfway down his arms.

In neat black ink on his right shoulder is a tattoo of the Troupe's symbol - the spider.

Chrollo hadn’t been lying.

Kurapika squeezes the fabric of his shirt, feeling it wrinkle. He's seen more than enough fake tattoos to know when he's looking at the real thing, and Chrollo's tattoo is no fake. The spider is there, looming over him from where it sits, staining Chrollo's pale skin.

“The tattoo is the Troupe’s symbol,” Chrollo explains. “I did tell you I was the head.” He pries the fabric of his shirt out of Kurapika’s sweaty hands and pulls it back over his shoulders. He tosses his headband aside and then sits back on his heels to undue his pants.

"I take it my reputation proceeds me?"

Kurapika can feel his thighs trembling with his poorly restrained rage. His grip on the sheets below him is white-knuckled.

"That's not the problem."

“Not a fan of spiders?” Chrollo teases.

“Practically arachnophobia,” Kurapika says tightly, eyes shut to avoid seeing the spider again. He doesn't wait for Chrollo to finish undoing his pants and instead pulls him into another kiss that's nowhere near as gentle as their last ones. It hurts when his lip knocks into Chrollo's teeth but it doesn't matter. A bruised lip is the least of his problems.

 _I'm sleeping with a Spider_ , he thinks. The thought bringing a sensation of numbness with it that washes his hatred into something more cold and manageable.  _I'm sleeping with the Spider. And I'm going to kill him._

The reminder calms him down enough that he stops his body from shaking and can almost stand the gentle hand that slides up his thigh. It isn’t so bad with his eyes screwed shut, even when Chrollo starts to stroke his half hard cock. Though Kurapika is prepared for the sensation he pulls away from their kiss to breathe slowly and get used to the feeling of another person touching him.

Without meaning to, Kurapika's nails dig viciously down into the back of Chrollo's neck. A minute shudder runs down Chrollo's body.

 _Is he a masochist?_  Kurapika wonders. For some reason he doubts it. That isn't the impression that he gets from Chrollo. Still, there's something in him that's enjoying Kurapika's violence and his rudeness.  _Neither of those is off putting_ , that was what he'd said earlier about his gender and his bloodlust.

_Does he know the danger that he's in? Is this exciting to him?_

 

There were very few expectations that Kurapika had for his first sexual experience but he did expect a lot more discomfort than Chrollo is giving him. When Chrollo moves on from stroking him to fingering him there's very little in the way of pain for him to suffer through.

Kurapika’s inexperience must be painfully obvious because Chrollo is slow in working him open. Every drag of his fingers is obnoxiously slow but makes Kurapika’s legs feel weak and an uncomfortable spark of heat surge through his belly. He’d be tempted to snap at Chrollo to hurry up if he had any idea how long these types of things were normally supposed to take.

“It’ll be a bit easier if you’re loose,” Chrollo says, stretching Kurapika around a third finger.

“I-I gathered as much,” Kurapika says, hands curling around the other’s collar. The thought of wrapping his Chain around Chrollo’s throat enters his thoughts briefly but he ignores it. Chrollo’s paying attention to his every movement and expression, watching for his pain and his discomfort. He couldn’t be any more focused.

But rather quickly any discomfort he’s been feeling gives way to nothing but heat. It'd be more embarrassing if he hadn't expected it but even if he lacks experience he has some understanding of how these things work. It's a bodily reaction that he can't control so there's little he can do but try not to embarrass himself more than necessary. He’s only just able to keep himself from crying out but he feels himself shake as Chrollo drags the sensation out of him again and again.

“You’re probably ready to go,” Chrollo says, withdrawing his fingers. Kurapika lets out a quiet gasp of relief. Chrollo pets the side of his thighs. "Do you have a preference in terms of—"

Without waiting for him to finish Kurapika shoves him over and lands on top of his body. Chrollo doesn't so much as tense at the violence of the movement or how sudden it was. He doesn't say anything at all as Kurapika positions himself. His gaze is almost fond.

Kurapika doesn’t hesitate in grabbing Chrollo's cock. He feels almost proud of the low moan he draws from him before Chrollo reaches over to his nightstand to pass Kurapika something. Kurapika feels his cheeks heat up but says nothing, wordlessly snatching the condom from Chrollo's hand and rolling it onto him.

Soft hands rest on his waist as he angles his body over Chrollo. He lowers himself slowly and Chrollo strokes his skin like encouragement. It's a strange and intense experience, made all the more strange and intense by who he's experiencing it with but Chrollo looks lost in the feeling of his own pleasure, eyes lidded and lips parted. This, Kurapika realizes, is the first time he's dropped his guard.

But his own concentration is shot as well.

Kurapika bites his bottom lip and makes his body relax until he's taking more of Chrollo in. He feels exposed sitting naked, up right in the lap of a man who's still mostly dressed but it's significantly better than letting Chrollo pin him down. He can't delude himself enough to believe that he's more in control like this but he feels less cornered this way.

Chrollo slips deeper into him and he gasps quietly. He shivers a little at the stretch of it but it's nothing compared to seeing the Troupe leader look at him with dazed eyes. He wonders vaguely how much better he might do if he had actual sexual experience under his belt.

“You know,” Chrollo says breathlessly. “This would be a nice time to have a name to say.”

“You'll have to make do,” Kurapika says, before finally sitting himself down on the last of his cock. Chrollo takes a breath, stroking slow circles into Kurapika’s side with the thumb of one hand. The gesture is oddly grounding and he focuses on it as he gets used to the feeling of Chrollo inside of him.

“Are you alright?” Chrollo asks. Kurapika twitches and finds that the movement draws Chrollo a little deeper into him and has to hold back a pained sound. He's pushing himself too quickly.

“I’m fine,” Kurapika says, gritting his teeth. Slowly Chrollo looks Kurapika over and then moves so he can kiss his cheek. Kurapika turns away. “I said I’m fine.”

“You sound like you’re in pain. Just slow down.” Kurapika ignores him and grabs Chrollo’s shirt, forcing him into another kiss to shut him up.

Kurapika hates him. He can't even begin to understand how a man can be so patient and kind to a malicious stranger who is openly lying to him and then turn around and murder innocent people to sell their parts like livestock. If he’d just been cruel and violent with Kurapika he could have handled it but this is so much worse.

Chrollo gives him a quick parting kiss on the lips and then look up at him again. “I’m going to move now. Is that alright?”

“Just do it."

Kurapika shuts his eyes as Chrollo rolls his hips, no longer wanting to watch whatever strange emotions are on his face or caring if he’s letting his guard down. He doesn’t care if he’s not in control of things anymore. He doesn’t even care that he’s hard and leaking wetly against Chrollo’s chest. His body has never mattered to him less.

It's still tight and uncomfortable but the tension of it eases as Chrollo continues to rock his hips into him. His pace is slow and every time Kurapika feels him bottom out it gets easier and easier. The sensation is new and he dislikes the thought of having the head of the Phantom Troupe inside of him, filling him up, but it isn't unbearable by any means.

“You have a very honest face, my friend,” Chrollo says. Kurapika’s first attempt at a response ends in a choked moan.

“W-what?” he manages. Chrollo gets an arm back around him to pull him closer to his chest and Kurapika’s cock brushes harder against him. It sends a wave of genuine pleasure through his body. He keeps his hands on Chrollo’s shoulders to keep himself steady on his knees as Chrollo speeds up.

“You must hate me so much—“ Chrollo cuts himself off with a low groan. “You've got murder in your eyes. You're so interesting.” His grip on Kurapika’s waist tightens for the first time and Kurapika gasps.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Why would that be a good thing?”

Chrollo’s laugh sounds rough in his throat. “Who knows?” he says. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Kurapika look down between them. As stimulating is this may feel he doesn’t think it’ll push him over the edge, and he hates Chrollo for asking and instead of just doing it. He won’t beg a mass murderer to touch him. “No.”

Chrollo watches silently as he wraps a hand around himself and doesn't stop fucking him.

Kurapika doesn't recognize the sound he makes when Chrollo suddenly hits something inside of him that sends heat up his spine. Whatever the sound is, it's pathetic and desperate, even to his own ears so he can't begin to imagine what he sounds like to Chrollo. He doesn't care though. He won't care. He can't.

He nearly topples over when his orgasm hits him. He's unprepared for how intense it is, or how the pleasure surges through his body in waves as he strokes himself through it. Chrollo catches him to keep his body upright as he wades through the shuddering pleasure. When it's over Kurapika nearly collapses again him and breathes heavily against his chest. Through his exhaustion he has the presence of mind to feel uncomfortable about having come not just in his hand but on Chrollo's chest as well.

For a while Chrollo does nothing but gently stroke Kurapika’s back. Still soft, still as tender as if Kurapika were a lover he’s known for years not a stranger he’s fucked in a random hotel.

“Stop touching me,” Kurapika snaps. Chrollo’s fingers pause over the base of his spine. “Just keep going until you come.”

This time when Chrollo tries to kiss him Kurapika pulls his hair. “Okay, okay,” Chrollo says plaintively. He doesn’t need to be told again and keeps thrusting into him until he comes, his forehead pressed against Kurapika’s collarbone and his moan soft.

Though Kurapika feels completely drained by his orgasm, Chrollo doesn’t seem to be done with him. He lifts Kurapika enough to pull out of him and he can feel the brush of Chrollo’s wrist as he pulls off the condom. Kurapika is too exhausted to bother pulling away so he does nothing as Chrollo touches his face. There's nothing dark or violent in his expression or his aura. After all of that he still reeks of a deep and peaceful calm.

With no small amount of reverence he brushes his thumb across Kurapika’s cheek. Kurapika wonders what his parents - his people - would think if they could see him right now; sitting post-coital in their killer's lap and letting himself be pet like a cat.

"My God, you're beautiful," Chrollo says softly. “I'll take it as a compliment but do your eyes always do that during sex?”

Kurapika's breath catches in his throat.

In less than a second's time he leaps out of Chrollo's lap and summons his Chains. They move swiftly to wrap around Chrollo’s throat but he’s much too slow. A knife is drawn from underneath Chrollo's pillow and the chain is pinned again the hotel room wall. Chrollo doesn't even get up.

“Easy,” Chrollo says, one hand wrapped around the Ben’s Knife. He swings around so he’s sitting at the edge of the bed. Kurapika is naked still in a low crouch, chains faintly catching the moonlight. “Your contacts got a little dislodged while we were having sex. I assumed your eyes weren't really green but I suppose it's a little more than vanity to cause a reaction like that.”

Kurapika gets rid of the first chain and summons another to his other hand, but Chrollo is already on high alert. He knocks the second chain off its path with ease. Kurapika’s heart pounds. He won’t get a chance to catch Chrollo off guard again.

Chrollo leans his chin on his hand as though he couldn’t care less that Kurapika is trying to fight him. He spins the knife in his palm nonchalantly. He knows he’s won. He knows he’s stronger.

 _No,_  Kurapika thinks.  _His strength doesn't matter. The fact that he knows what I'm doing doesn't matter. I can still kill him. I can still—_

“What is it then? Fake eyes?” Chrollo asks casually. “I've seen some interesting glass ones in my day, even a few mechanical ones. No...you wouldn't be so desperate to avoid me seeing them if that were the case. That must mean there's something about your eyes that I'd specifically recognize.”

The chains in his hand rattle as Kurapika’s hand twitches.

“I see. Scarlet Eyes then.”

His tone is so light that he might as well be talking about the weather when he drops this revelation. His expression doesn't seem particular bothered at the implications of Kurapika being here.

“Yes,” Kurapika says. He expects himself to shake or to sound frightened or embarrassed but he isn’t. He stands up straight, not bothering to cover himself. “You and your men killed everyone in my clan and cut out their eyes.”

Chrollo remains still. “Yes, that would explain it. Are you actually here to kill me then? Because you probably can't at this point.”

“I  _will_  kill you. But first you have something I want.”

Chrollo laughs. “Planning to steal from a thief is one hell of a goal. Fine then.”

To Kurapika’s surprise he gets up, tossing the knife down on the bed behind him. Kurapika can’t believe what he’s seeing when Chrollo heads towards the bedroom closet. He looks through a case for a moment before turning back to Kurapika.

“Here. Since you went through so much trouble for it.”

Kurapika feels something in his chest seize up when he gets a look at the item in Chrollo’s hands. It isn’t a notebook, or a ledger.

It's large glass canister with a pair of red eyes floating inside of them. Because of Chrollo’s momentum they sway slightly and one of them swings towards him. Kurapika nearly falls backwards, one hand clutching the wall behind him.

“I don't have any of the other ones I'm afraid,” Chrollo says, stepping forwards. Involuntarily Kurapika flinches back from him. “I only kept this one a whim and I was thinking of finally getting rid of it during the auction. You can have it if you'd like.”

He's dedicated so many years to finding the eyes but somehow he still feels so utterly unprepared for the sight of them right in front of him. He's always associated the Scarlet Eyes with life and passion; seeing them float lifeless in the glass shakes him. The way they sit so casually in Chrollo's hands, they don't seem like parts of a human being that Kurapika once knew. They feel like cold, lifeless, objects.

Objects that have been sitting inside Chrollo's closet this entire time.

“Who...?” he finds himself asking. He's not sure why, he wouldn't really want to know.

“Oh.” Chrollo looks down at the glass container in his hands. “I'm sorry, I'm not sure who they belonged to. There were a lot of them.” He shrugs a little. “You probably knew that.”

Chrollo places the canister on the floor at Kurapika's feet.

The eyes sit motionless in their container now and Kurapika forces down the rising bile in his throat. On the other side of the room Chrollo is getting dressed, getting ready to leave knowing who he is and how Kurapika can find the other eyes

“Chrollo!”

Chrollo pauses in putting on his jacket to watch him again. “Yes?”

He’s shaking but he keeps his voice straight. He's sure that nothing but his rage is apparent on his face. “Does this change anything?"

Chrollo blinks at him in surprise. “Does the fact that I've gone from suspecting you dislike me to knowing you have a very good reason to want me dead change anything?"

Kurapika's fingers dig into his palms. "Are you going to pretend that upsets you?"

The surprised expression on Chrollo's is replaced once again by his smile. But now there doesn't seem to be anything calm about his expression. Now the same face feels like quiet excitement, and a hunger for more of the heat and the violence that Kurapika is offering him.

Chrollo looks away as though he's tearing himself away from a temptation. “Fair enough. You can stay here for the night," he says. "I’ll see you in the morning.”

As soon as the door shuts Kurapika falls to his knees.

Suddenly cold, he searches inside himself for the warmth his hatred has always provided him and finds that it's out of his reach. Pretending not to be bothered by Chrollo's actions took everything out of him. This was too sudden, and he's too shaken. This isn't how the evening was supposed to go.

He places a hand on the top of the container and studies the eyes within them with a tightness in his gut that makes him want to vomit. With Chrollo gone he's alone now in the hotel room, acclimating to the coldness of it.

Alone only with a pair of accusing red eyes that pin him in place.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at [statuscrows](http://statuscrows.tumblr.com) if you feel like checking out my gross horror/hxh blog


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